Thomas Lee Joseph

Obituaries are often a collection of facts that give dates, people, accomplishments and all kinds of useful and interesting information. But sometimes they don’t capture the essence of a person. Here are a few facts. Tommy was the youngest of 9 and of Syrian-Lebanese heritage. He married my mom, Elsie, 68 years ago. I’m 67. Do the math. He was a successful liquor distributer for Heublien, Inc. At the age of 55, as soon as he could retire, he did. Work was a suffer. He was a man to refuse to suffer. He is the last survivor of his brothers and sisters. He is survived by his wife Elsie, me-Kevin Michael, and his two grandchildren Anna and Gabe. Now for his essence.

Thomas Lee Joseph liked to be called “Tommy.” Informal, casual, no airs, nothing put on. Just “Tommy.” My dad was one of these rare and gifted people who seems to just naturally send twinkling lights around you whenever he greeted you. No matter your station in life, if you entered his orbit, you’d feel the twinkle. Laughter and smiles nearly always followed in his wake. We fought, sometimes bitterly, we laughed, we had sometimes very big differences, but in the end I knew when the chips were down he’d have my back. As he passed into older age, without wavering, I was committed to having his.

He was an athlete, entertainer, singer. How he loved to sing. As a kid I remember him standing in the shower, snapping his fingers, words to songs pasted to the shower door, his voice and the snap of his fingers ringing out throughout the house.

He was a man never to complain except for some reason about what he considered bad food. On dialysis for nine years, never complaining about it because it kept him alive, he was on the edge of death three times and three times he refused to be taken. I sometimes wondered if he was so stubborn that even Death gave up trying to shake him loose, “okay, Tommy, you win. Not this time.”

His song was “My way”. When he sang it you knew that he meant it. Through his singing that song perhaps the most important life lesson was left with me, and sometimes to his own consternation. He didn’t quite like it when “my way” wasn’t his way. Still, I learned through him to “take the blows” with humor and grace, and in the end, like it or not, I’m just going to do it my way.

Never believing himself entitled about anything, “Thank you’s” were handed out with a sincerity that struck at the heart of those he thanked. You didn’t know he meant it; you felt it. People’s affections had to be earned every day, and Tommy handed out and collected affection like it was gold. One man came up to my mother after he passed and told her he’d really miss my dad. “After I got out of the hospital he was the only one to call me and to remember. “ He may forget your name, but he’d never forget you.